Ranger's Apprentice: Future of the Kingdom
by pixie blue
Summary: Set 20 years after book 9. Araluen is extending its contacts, making treaties and forging alliances. Will helps the proceedings for a treaty in Sonderland, and picks up a Sonderlandian boy on the way home. What secret is the boy hiding? All book spoilers.
1. Prologue

A/N: My first ever RA fanfiction, so I hope it goes well. Tell me if it doesn't make sense or if I'm writing OOC or anything. On with the fic!

.:':. .:':. .:':.

_Just over twenty years have passed since Halt was successfully healed by Malcolm, and both Halt and Will arrived safely back at Redmont. They went about their usual Ranger duties, Halt still stubbornly working through the years despite his age, and Araluen slowly settled into an age of peace. There was still the ever-present threat of the Scotti, who were still sore over their loss at Macindaw all those years ago, but even they were keying down on their attacks, and have been fairly quiet for the past few years._

_Araluen is extending its contacts, sending missionaries to distant countries to help negotiate treaties and establish friendships. Sonderland is one of the many countries to be joined in treaty with Araluen; an envoy of highly ranked lords and ladies set out to Sonderland, escorted by the Ranger Will Treaty, who had played a major role in treaties with many another countries. The treaty was accepted readily - as an ally of Araluen, the neighbouring Skandians were far less likely to raid their coastal villages. On their return through Sonderland, they stopped at many of the major fiefdoms, and stayed the night and feasted with the lords and ladies of the castle. Will, not being one for such formalities, requested that he make his own way back, noting that the envoy already knew the pattern in which they were going in order for them to return to Araluen._

_And, deep in the wintry Sonderland woods, is where our story begins..._


	2. A Chance Encounter

The rider and horse were nondescript; a small, shaggy horse carrying a small, cloaked figure on its back. They plodded steadily through the forest, silent as ghosts. Face cast in shadow, his unseen eyes darted restlessly all around him, assessing every possible point for any approaching danger.

A hoarse scream rang out, shattering the stillness of the woods.

He whipped his head towards the sound, urging his horse to a gallop. Even at the increased pace, there was still barely a sound as they sped deeper and deeper into the dense growth. Branches shot past the rider's face, threatening to tear his hood from his head. He reined in his horse abruptly as he found the source of the scream.

A boy, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, lay at the bottom of a small ditch, muddy snow dirtying his coat and pants. The splintered remains of a tree branch lay next to him, leaning heavily on his arm, the sleeve shredded and slightly stained with blood. The rider nimbly leapt off his horse, crossing over to the figure lying in the snow and heaving the fallen limb off his arm.

He cowered, clutching his injured arm to his body, terrified of the imposing figure that the cloaked stranger struck. "Hey, don't be scared. I won't hurt you," the rider told him soothingly, flipping back his hood to reveal a friendly face framed with unruly brown hair, beginning to show just the faintest flecks of grey at the roots. The boy flinched as Will held out his hand. "I'm Will Treaty," he said softly.

"Will... Tree-tee," the boy repeated haltingly.

"Don't speak much Araluan, do you?" Will retracted his hand, seeing that the boy wasn't going to take it.

The boy shook his head hesitantly. "Not... good Aruland speak."

"That's okay," Will smiled warmly and turned back to his pack to pull out some provisions. A terrified look crossed the boy's face and he tensed, ready to flee at any moment. The Ranger sighed and took out the strips of meat, kneeling down and showing the boy. "Look. No weapons. Just food. Are you hungry?" Tentatively, the boy inched his hand towards the proffered food, then snatched it and immediately started gnawing at it. Will raised his eyebrows. "I'll take that as a yes."

He nodded jerkily, still attacking the meat with his teeth. Leaning back and smiling, Will watched as the boy ate ravenously. He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a freshly filled waterskin. The boy gulped greedily from it, wiping his mouth and sighing contentedly when he finished.

"Let me look at your arm."

Still with an edge of mistrust, the boy shrugged off his heavy, fur-lined coat and cautiously stretched out his arm for Will to inspect, wincing slightly as he did so. A furrow creased his brow as he gently poked and prodded it. "Well, it all seems to be fine. A few scrapes and bruises is all." He took out his medical kit and bandaged the worst of the cuts, then inspected the torn coat sleeve. "Hmm, not too bad... Might stain though... Should be fine with a bit of stitching." He stood up, handing the boy his coat.

"Okay, let's get you home."

The boy made a face, not moving from his spot on the ground. "Can't go you?"

Will puzzled over the words for a moment. "You want to go with me?"

He nodded eagerly.

"Don't you have a family?"

"Yes. But... Want fun. Adventure." The boy smiled up at him.

The smile turned to a scowl when Will shook his head. "I can't do that. The life I lead is dangerous; you'll be safer here."

He shook his head vehemently. "You leave, I run away again. I go you." Will frowned.

"Well, I still think you should tell them you're going."

Annoyance flickered across his features. "Fine," he huffed, tossing the waterskin back to Will. "Leave note."

Will sighed; it was probably the best he was going to get. "Lead on."

Sensing that Will had caved, the boy smirked, quickly standing. He had seemed much shorter sitting down; Will now saw that the boy towered a good head above him.

"Heimili. Home. I go, you follow." Grinning, he dashed off.

Sighing, Will packed up his saddlebags and remounted Tug. He looked around for the boy, but he had already disappeared.

"Will Tree-tee!" The voice floated through the trees. "Home. You follow!"

Will turned Tug in the direction of the voice, setting up a steady gait. Even though the boy was on foot, he had already seemed to gain quite some distance.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

It had taken Will a few minutes to catch up with the boy; after all, he didn't know these parts all that well whilst the boy had obviously grown up in them. Despite his size, he was as light on his feet as a deer, darting in front of Tug as they progressed along the path.

Their journey was far from quiet. The boy was determined to learn as much as he could in as little time as possible, using a practice quite familiar to Will; by asking a million questions per minute. Despite the fact that he had never learned Araluan formally, Fridrik could still understand most of what Will said.

"You... You teach me more Aruland speak?"

"I'll try."

"You here before?"

Will sighed; now he understood Halt's annoyance with his constant pestering. "No, this is the first time I've been to Sonderland. I was sent here to help with the Sonderland-Araluan treaty."

"Tree-tee."

"That's the one."

"You... Fjölskylda...Family?"

"No, I'm an orphan." Seeing the boy's puzzled expression at the unfamiliar word, he explained, "I didn't know any of my family."

He nodded, subdued for a few seconds, but only that. "Why?"

Will looked at him, surprised. "Why what?"

"Why no family?"

"They died."

"Oh." He paused for another few seconds. Will took the opportunity to ask the boy some questions.

"What's your name?"

He hesitated. "Fridrik."

"And what about your family?"

His face lit up at their mention and began talking animatedly, hardly watching where he was going and still somehow avoiding running into any trees. "I have... Systir-sisters. Two, little. Brynja, Kristjana." He tugged at a strand of choppy blonde hair. "They... Hair. Like this." He tugged his hair again. "Eyes, blue." He pointed at one of the small portions of sky visible through the thick tangle of tree branches hanging low over their heads. "Bróðir. Brother. Little too. Sindri. Hair darker. Brown." He pointed at the sky again. "Eyes, same. And then, tvíburi. Twin... sister." Will noticed another slight hesitation. Fridrik pouted, scrunching up his nose. "Fridrika."

"Your names are almost the same!" Will exclaimed in surprise.

He nodded unhappily. "Some time, say her me."

"She must be a bit stocky if people can mix you up."

Fridrik shrugged. "Look same. Her hair short... Cut like boy. Silly." Then he launched into a description of his parents.

As Fridrik prattled on, Will wondered why he was so eager to leave them when he obviously cared about them so much. Then he shrugged; it was probably like he had said. He just wanted an adventure.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Once they had arrived at the little cottage that he called home, Fridrik felt compelled to give Will a tour.

"...This room... Fridrika. Dresses, no like. She take boy clothes. No want... Hjónaband... Marriage. Marry soon. She no like boy promised to." Will nodded wisely. He knew very little of Sonderland custom, but knew that children were 'promised' into marriage at a young age. It would be hard for Fridrik, watching his sister marry someone she didn't like.

"What about you, Fridrik? Do you like the girl you've been promised?"

He stared blankly, then hurriedly shook his head. Will smiled inwardly. Maybe that was the reason Fridrik wanted to leave with him. Trying to escape an unwanted marriage.

Fridrik quickly wrote his letter, not letting Will see it - not that he would have been able to read the Sonderland script anyway. He finished it with a flourish.

"Okay, we go."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

As soon as they left, Fridrik using a sturdy horse that they had bought from one of the townsmen, he once again started quizzing Will about everything.

"Why you have strange cloak?" he asked, pointing to the white and grey dappled cloak hanging around his shoulders.

Will fingered it fondly; he still remembered the first time he had used it, under the alias of Will Barton the jongleur. "It's a Ranger cloak."

"What Ranger?"

Will sighed. "Rangers are the peace-keepers in Araluen. Special forces, if you want. There are fifty of us - one for each fiefdom. We instil the law upon rogues, conspirators, thieves and the like. Our presence also carries a lot of weight - for example, me coming here to help with the proceedings for the Sonderland-Araluen treaty."

He looked puzzled. "Why need cloak for tree-tees?"

Will smiled faintly. "We don't use them for making treaties. The cloaks help Rangers move around without being seen. That way, we can sneak up on the bad guys without them seeing us, and we can catch them before they do anything else wrong. Also, when you're tracking someone, they'll usually be on the lookout for people following them. If they can't spot you, they can't catch you, can they?"

"No," he said thoughtfully, digesting the information. Will dared to hope he would stop the questions there. "You good tracker?" Will slumped slightly in his saddle. The boy certainly had the curiosity to rival any Ranger.

"Yes, I'm a good tracker."

Fridrik nodded, satisfied, finally lapsing into a blessed silence.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

A/N: Well, this is the first chapter. I used Icelandic for the language in Sonderland, with a free translator off the web, so sorry to anyone fluent in Icelandic that can see if I got anything wrong (which, knowing the unreliability of web translators, is likely). Because I didn't actually know what country Sonderland was based off, I did a word association, which basically when like this: Sonderland, Wonderland, Walking in a Winter Wonderland, winter, cold, snow, ice, Iceland. So, yeah, there you have it.

-pixie.


	3. Common Theif

Will groaned as he stretched his muscles, still stiff from sleep. "Come on Fridrik, time to get up," he called into the stillness of the morning. No response. "Fridrik?" He cracked his eyes open and glanced around the camp they had set up the previous evening. Tug looked at him sleepily, but other than that, no signs of life.

Fridrik was gone.

At first, Will had a panicked moment where he thought the boy had been carried off by bandits. Then he calmed himself; Tug would have alerted him if that were the case, and why would they leave Will alone and just take Fridrik? There were no signs of a struggle, either. Perhaps the boy had had need of the privy and walked into the forest for some privacy. Sighing, Will reached into his pack for something quick to eat.

The pack was empty.

He patted the inside of the bag and shook it upside down to make sure there was really nothing inside. An encroaching sense of dread settled into the pit of his stomach as he pieced everything together.

The hesitation when talking about his family. When giving Will his name. The distrustfulness he had shown when first meeting Will. Fridrik had said he was running away from home, and yet had carried no supplies with him. The cottage Fridrik had taken him to wasn't his home; it was just a random cottage, a ruse. Fridrik was just a common thief.

But that didn't seem quite right either. Tug would have sensed if the boy had had bad intentions. After a quick check, Will found his weapons were still where he had left them the night before, as were his compass, paperwork and maps. He frowned, deciding he would track the boy down and demand answers. He cast out in a wide circle, about thirty metres out from the camp in every direction.

There was not even the faintest trace that Fridrik had been in the area. And his horse had disappeared, too.

Still frowning, he returned to the camp and packed up. He vaulted onto Tug's back, trusting the horse to be able to pick up Fridrik's scent. "Let's go find him, boy."

Tug swivelled his head to look at Will. _What, you expect me to know where he is?_ His eyes seemed to say.

"Well, I don't know, can't you sniff him out or something?"

_I am not a tracker dog._

Will sighed. "Okay, just... Let's go to the cottage he took us to. Maybe he does live there, after all." Tug obediently turned to the east. "Wait." A flash of something out of place amongst the trees caught Will's eye. He quickly slipped off the saddle and strode over to the branch, which dangled a small strand of slightly bloodstained thread - the same type and texture that made up the cuff of Fridrik's sleeve. The blood must have been leftover from when the tree limb had fallen on his arm. Will felt both glad that he had at least found the general direction that Fridrik had headed in, and annoyed that he hadn't found it in his earlier sweep of the area. "You're getting old, Treaty," he muttered to himself.

"Come on Tug, have a smell of this and see if you can find him." Tug regarded him with annoyance. "Yes, I know you're not a tracker dog. You're a Ranger horse. Now can you please just try?"

The horse trotted past him contemptuously, shaking his head as he went. He flared his nostrils at the thread, then opened his mouth and delicately started chewing on it.

"Hey, I said smell it, not eat it!"

Tug regarded him disdainfully. _You wanted me to be a tracker dog, so I'll be a tracker dog. I know what I'm doing._ He stuck out his tongue and started waving it around, tasting the air.

Will started laughing. He couldn't help it. Tug just looked too ridiculous with his tongue sticking out the way it was. The horse glared at him, tongue still hanging in the air. _I don't see how this is so funny._ Will doubled over, gasping short breaths between fits of laughter.

"Oh come on, Tug, I didn't mean it!" Will shouted after the horse as he started off through the trees. Tug looked back at him. _Oh, yes you did._ Exasperated, Will started running after him. After catching up, Will swung himself into the saddle. The shaggy little horse ignored him and set up his steady, kilometre-eating pace.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Will frowned to himself, gazing at the small snapped twig that dangled from its branch by a few strands. He had found very little trace of the boy; either he had covered his tracks well or just not left any in the first place. He knelt down and peered closer at the ground. There was just the faintest impression of a hand in the snow, and Will saw the sweeping motions the hand had made before accidentally pressing slightly into the white powder before leaving. He nearly smacked himself on the forehead. Of course he wouldn't find many tracks on the ground; the boy was travelling through the trees. This mark showed that he had accidentally fallen from the branch and hastily covered the evidence before setting off again. Upon looking closer at the tree trunk, Will saw the tiniest trails of snow where there shouldn't have been any - where they had rubbed off of Fridrik's clothing and boots. The boy already knew Will was a tracker; he would have set the horse free, covered the tracks - because any mildly competent tracker could tell from a horse's tracks whether it was riderless or not - and then headed in the opposite direction, just in case. Now that he knew where he should be searching, Will looked up and saw numerous small signs of Fridrik's passing. Smiling grimly, he urged Tug into a faster gait.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

As the sun quickly began to disappear behind the horizon, he had to marvel at the pace that Fridrik had moved at. The boy might as well have been sprinting along on the treetops to have still kept in front of the Ranger. Of course, it didn't help that Will had woken up long after Fridrik had left, and had had to stop several times and scan for more clues whenever the trail went cold - which was often. Finally, he spotted a Fridrik-sized figure flitting among the higher branches of the trees in front of him. He quietly slid out of the saddle. "Silent," he told Tug after leading him to what was probably the only evergreen shrub for about fifty metres in any direction. Once sinking to the ground, the horse was almost completely invisible. Will scrambled up a nearby tree, nimble as ever despite his increasing age, and blended seamlessly with the shadows, using the encroaching darkness of the night to his advantage. He was in luck; the boy was resting for a few moments, presumably just about to climb down and stop for the night.

Silent as the shadows he moved through, Will leapt from limb to limb with cat-like agility until he was just under a metre behind Fridrik, then sprang upon the hapless boy. Caught completely unawares, he let out a surprised 'oof' as they both tumbled through the soft, powdery snow below. Will, using his momentum and the element of surprise, quickly pressed Fridrik into the icy whiteness and pinned his arms behind his back.


	4. Painful Journey

A/N: Well, people, I actually have two unfinished assignments due this week, a mountain of homework I haven't even begun to scale, and a major vocal eisteddfod on Thursday which I should be practicing for, and yet I love you guys so much that I've put all that aside to write some more for you. SO YOU BETTER LIKE IT! Ahem. Enjoy!

.:':. .:':. .:':.

"Did you really think you would get away with it, you little thief?" Will snarled, pulling Fridrik to his feet and shaking him.

"Only took little food," he said sullenly.

"You took all my blasted supplies!" Will roared, shaking him again.

He shook his head vehemently. "Only take... Two meat, one bread, few fruit, one water." He wrested one hand free of Will's grasp, reached into a pocket and pulled out what remained of the stolen food to show him.

Will then realised what had happened, and shook the boy a third time. "Yes, and then you left the pack open, and all the little scavengers in the whole bloody forest made off with my food!"

"Just want see if you good tracker."

"I already told you I was a good tracker! Why did you feel the need to prove it?" he growled.

He shrugged. "Make sure not... gorta... boasting."

"Fine. It's been proven. That good enough for you?" Will let go of his other arm.

Fridrik grinned down at Will. "Yes. I still go you?"

"I'm of some mind not to let you come along, but since I'm such a nice person, I will. But," Will warned, "If you ever pull a trick like that again, I will shoot you so full of arrows people will mistake you for an overgrown hedgehog. Understood?" Even if Fridrik didn't necessarily understand all that Will had said, the tone of voice had done more than enough to convey the message. He nodded hurriedly.

"Well, this is wonderful," Will muttered to himself. "Tomorrow, we'll need to stop again to get some more provisions, and a horse for you, though I'm almost tempted to make you walk the rest of the way."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Will yawned as he woke, stretching like at cat, slowly opening his eyes - to see Fridrik sitting less than half a metre in front of him. He nearly jumped out of his skin. "Good lord, boy, don't do that!"

"What?"

"You have any idea how disconcerting it is to wake up with a child you met yesterday staring at you?"

He grinned. "Sleeping... You peaceful. Not angry." He cocked his head. "Look younger."

"Thank you for reminding me of my increasing age," Will muttered. "Always a great thing to hear after you've just woken up and been startled so badly your heart almost stopped for a moment." His stomach rumbled. "And we don't have anything for breakfast, thanks to you. Wonderful."

Fridrik guiltily pulled out the food that he had taken the morning before. "Still have some... You want?"

Will smiled faintly and took the hunk of bread from the boy. "Alright, eat up. It's a long way until we get to the next village."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Pain shot through his legs with every step. He glared at the cheerful-looking Ranger sitting astride his horse. He had already asked if they could swap, but Will had told him he wouldn't be able to ride Tug. Being the stubborn teenager he was, he decided he would try anyway. Now, on top of the pain in his legs, he had snow melting down his back in icy trickles from where it had lodged itself after he had gone flying from Tug's back.

"Next village soon?" he asked hopefully.

"Not for a while." There was an audible groan. The corner of Will's mouth curled. "But I think it would be fair to stop for a bit." Fridrik thumped gratefully into the snow, face first. "You sure you can breathe through all that snow?"

There was a muffled and unintelligible reply. Will cocked an eyebrow but said nothing, opting instead to eat something out of the meagre supplies that were left. He ate quickly, then rubbed Tug down with curry brush, patting him on the nose when he had finished.

Quietly sighing, he nestled himself in between the roots of a tree, watching Fridrik with a bemused expression on his face. The novelty soon wore off, though, and he searched around for a decently sized stick. Once finding one, he picked it up and gave the unmoving boy a sharp jab in the ribs.

He moaned, turning his head to the side and glaring up at the Ranger. "What that for?" he grumbled.

Will grinned. "Just making sure you're alive. Come on, time to head off." Fridrik moaned again, hauled himself to his feet and set up a weary jog. Swiftly mounting Tug again, Will urged the horse to a steady trot beside the boy.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Fridrik was just about ready to drop by the time they reached the village. The sun winked at them over the icy mountaintops; soon it would sink out of view altogether. Sweat ran in runnels down his back, sticking his clothes to his skin, and he was glad they had reached the village when they had. Once the sun went down, the temperature dropped dramatically, and the sweat plastering his clothing to his body would have quickly frozen. He had taken off his coat long ago, the running making it uncomfortably warm, and now it was strapped onto Tug's saddle. Will swung down from the saddle as they neared the first cottages, slowing Tug to a walk. Fridrik gladly adjusted to the change of pace.

"Do you remember the story for the people at the inn?"

He nodded, exhausted. "You... Uncle. Visiting, from other country. Not know much Sonderlandian, so no speak, I speak for you. When buy new horse, if ask why need, say my horse startle and run into chasm, die. Come here for food and sleep besides."

"Good."

They came to a complete halt, and Fridrik put his hands on his knees, panting. Will smiled at him, amused. "Really, it is your own fault for letting that horse go."

The boy glared at him balefully but said nothing. Finally, his breathing slowed, and Will handed him back his coat. He accepted it grudgingly; now that he had stopped running, he was quickly cooling down, but was still angry with the Ranger for making him run in the first place and knew the jacket was a peace offering of sorts. He sent another glare Will's way to make sure he knew that the anger was still there.

Will just rolled his eyes and headed towards the inn.

It was a cheerful-looking place. Two storeys high, built soundly out of wood and stone. Smoke curled in grey tendrils out of the stout chimney only to be blown to shreds by the wind. Fridrik pushed the door open to let himself and Will in, and they were hit by a blast of warm air. They gratefully drank in the heat, quickly closing the door behind them to prevent it from escaping. A few quiet groups clustered around the tables nearest to the fires, and they looked up at the new arrivals, but soon returned to their conversations.

A balding man with a friendly smile greeted them from behind the counter. "How may I help you gentlemen?" he asked in Sonderlandian.

"We would like some lodgings for the night, please." Fridrik replied.

He beamed. "Wonderful manners, young lad, wonderful. And how will you be paying?"

"In coin." Under the man's expectant gaze, he hastily added, "This is my uncle. He's visiting from another country, and doesn't know much Sonderlandian, so he asked me to do the talking. How much would you like for a room?"

"Three silvers, that includes meals."

Fridrik relayed the price to Will, who obligingly fished out the necessary coins. The man behind the counter furrowed his brow at the foreign currency, but weighed it and deemed it sufficient. "Fridrik, can you ask him how much it is to keep Tug in the stable for the night?"

The boy hastily communicated the question, then replied to Will, "Five coppers, including food, water and tack." Once again, Will dug out the money and handed it to the man. With a small nod of approval at the payment, he led them outside to the stables. Will quickly went and fetched Tug, only holding onto the rein for show as he caught up with Fridrik and the innkeeper. He ushered them both into the warmth of the stable, warily eying the huge longbow strapped to the pommel but not saying a word. Indicating an empty stall and where the supplies were stored, he hurried back inside to serve any customers that might have been kept waiting. Fridrik struggled to keep his eyes open as Will efficiently stripped Tug's load and brushed down the horse, almost missing Will's request to get the feed and some water. He carried the buckets over with numb hands, and once they had reached their room, he barely had time to appreciate the softness of the bed before he fell asleep on it, to exhausted to undress.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

A/N: Aaand this is the part where you review. :) Please?


	5. Author's Note

A/N: Yeah, doesn't everyone hate these?

This is important. I AM NOT ABANDONING THIS STORY. I'm merely putting it on hold for a while. See, I've hit a metaphorical wall in my mind, and can't work out how to word the next chapter. I have some of the later stuff written, it's just the transition that's giving me trouble. So until I figure that out, this is on hold. I REPEAT, I'M NOT DISCONTINUING THIS.

Basically, what I'm having trouble with is them going to Araluen, because that'll be fairly boring, and I need something to spice it up... If you have a good idea, please message me it. I will love you forever and give you a chapter dedication. :)

So yeah, really sorry about this. Some good news though, the ideas are still flowing for Musings From the Shower, and I've started to post another non-parody mutlichapter fic, called Unwilling Assassin. The plot bunnies that have abandoned me here have attacked me over there, so the story is just pouring out. (Now, to the hours that will be spent piecing all the little snippets together...) A lot darker than my other works, be warned.

Um, I think that's everything. I'm really, really sorry about this, but shouting at my brain to start working again hasn't given me any results, so until the plot bunnies come and nibble at this story again,

-pixie.


End file.
